Gifts of Time And Love
by Jac Danvers
Summary: For Dr. Giggles in the Lost Secret Santa Fic exchange! Miles really screwed up when he forgot to introduce Dan and Charlotte. Now they have to fall in love by Christmas or risk being trapped in the Sideways-verse for good. Charladay
1. Introduction: December 19

**Disclaimer: Nope, Lost still isn't mine. But if it was available at a price a graduate student could afford, I'd be all over it. **

**Authors Note: This is my submission for the 2010 Lost Secret Santa for the wonderful Dr. Giggles! One of the requests was for a happy Charlotte/Dan Christmas story. This will be six chapters total, taking place in the sideways universe. They don't make an appearance in this chapter, it's really just the set up. But they will be the predominant players in the rest of the story. I hope you like it! Merry Christmas!**

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**Introduction**

**December 19**

_"Gifts of time and love are surely the basic ingredients of a truly merry Christmas"_

-Peg Bracken

OOO

"I can't bloody believe you!"

"'Mi, come on, gimme a break! How was I supposed to know they didn't have their big revelation?" Miles whined, shrugging off his black leather jacket and tossing it on the back of a chair. How many minutes had passed since he walked in the door? He was certain it was less than five. Possibly even less than one, knowing how Naomi Dorrit got when somebody pissed her off. And after a long day at the station, where he'd been pulling double shifts since James had moved on and dealing with his surley new partner, Ana Lucia, this was the last thing he needed.

And it wasn't like he'd done anything wrong.

Alright, so maybe he'd screwed this one up _ever so slightly. _But really, he and Linus had set everything into motion. The plan had been aranged down to the very minute of their first encounter, every small detail accounted for. There should have been no earthly (or purgatorial or heavenly) way those two could blow it.

Then again, it _was _Daniel and Charlotte they were speaking of. And having had the pleasure of knowing both their real life and their after world selves, this whole fiasco shouldn't have come as a surprise. They were as dense regarding their feeling for each other in this world as they had been in the last.

Across the room, Naoimi scoffed, rolling her eyes as she shook a stilleto heel at him. "How were you supposed to know? How were _you _supposed to _know_? Gee, I don't know you stupid wanker. Normally it's a pretty big revelation, realizing your DEAD! Christ, how did I get stuck spending my afterlife with an idiot"

"You fell in love with my dashing good looks? Heroic afterlife career choice? Awesome real life super ghost talking powers?" No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he found himself dodging the black stiletto that had formerly been in his girlfriend-slash-soulmate's hand.

"You. Are. Not. Helping."

"I live to serve," he said with a faux bow.

"I should have chucked you overboard when we were on the Kahana. Would have saved me the trouble of having a bloody crush on you. Now I'm stuck with you for all bloody eternity."

He smirked. Miles couldn't help but love whenever Naomi hinted at her true feelings for him. She loathed admitting she was anything other than a tough girl- in death, just as in real life. But somehow their relationship had thrived since their first encounter, when he pulled her over for over aggressive driving, and subsequently arrested her for assaulting an officer.

Whoever said there was no romance in jail had clearly never met Miles Straume and Naomi Dorrit.

"You could have done that, but then where would you be?" he said over his shoulder, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt as he headed for the bedroom and adjoining bath. He needed a good long shower after a day like this.

"Still dead, likely with a more intelligent companion. Now, would you kindly explain how the hell you're going to fix this?"

"Jesus, Naomi, I'll take care of it. It's not like we're on a schedule here." He chucked his dress shirt haphhazardly at the hamper. It missed.

"Actually..." she started, picking the shirt, and wringing it in her hands.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, stealing his best friend and former partner's catch phrase. "What happened 'Mi?"

"Ben Linus called today."

Flopping backwards nto the bed, he covered his eyes. God he didn't want to ask, didn't want to know. "What did Ol' Bug Eyes want?"

"Illana and Bram had their moment," she replied tersely.

"So?"

"So? So? That means Dan and Charlotte are the _only_ holdouts on moments of revelation."

"Your point?"

Not like Miles had to ask. The sinking pit of dread in his stomach pretty much summed up Naomi's next words.

"The time is set, Miles. That's what Linus called to tell us. There's a time set, and we're crossing over. And if Dan and Charlotte aren't there, that's it. They missed their chance." Lines of worry were set in her face, and Miles could feel the guilt overtaking him. It took a lot to get Naomi worried or upset. Besides, Dan and Charlotte, despite being horribly screwed up and slightly mental, were the two people he could depend on during their time on Craphole Island. They had his back, more than once. He couldn't just abandon them here.

Damn, he'd really screwed it up this time.

"Shiiiiit... how long do I have?"

"Til Christmas."

He sat up quickly, his back aching from the sudden movement. "Shit, Naomi, that gives me five days. Dan's still pining for Theresa, and Charlotte's convinced she's future spinster material. How the hell am I going to make them fall in love, much less regain memories of their past life in five friggen days?"

"Perhaps by getting up off your bloody ass and finding them? Because for some God awful reason, when I move on to whatever comes next, I'd prefer to have you and your incredibly dense self accomapnying me. And that's not gonna happen if you don't fix this." Naomi turned on her heel, heading for the blue tiled bathroom. Closing the door, she turned to stare him down. "Well, move!"

Grabbing a clean t-shirt and his jacket, he headed for the door, for once in his life following Naomi's advice.

_How the hell am I gonna get myself out of this one?_

_

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_

**Well I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. Next chapter will hopefully be up tomorrow! Happy Christmas!**


	2. Chapter 1: December 20

**Disclaimer: Lost is still not mine. Otherwise Daniel Dae Kim would have been gift wrapped under my Christmas tree. Just sayin. Also don't own Happy Days.**

**A/N: Just for clarification, Miles is referred to as both Miles Straume and Miles Chang. People who know him in sideways and haven't had a revelation know him as Pierre's son, therefore last name Chang. Straume was his real life last name. **

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**Chapter 1**

**December 20**

"Where are you going?" Naomi called over her shoulder. His reflection in the television screen had skewed her view of the _Happy Days _rerun she was watching. Waiting for his answer, she ate another scoop of chocolate brownie ice cream. Therein lay the beauty of death- calories didn't count. That, and being stuck for all eternity with the love of her life.

She did love Miles Straume. Though you'd have to beat her to get her to admit it.

"Taking Dan out for drinks."

"Does Charlotte play into this at all?"

He grinned, taking a seat next to her as he put on his dress shoes. "Absolutely. I'm gonna get them drunk and convince them that hooking up is a great idea-"

"It's a terrible idea," she interjected, rolling her eyes. She'd spent even less time with the two lovebirds, due to her untimely death, but apparently she knew them better than Miles.

"No, no, hear me out. I'll get Dan drunk, then bring him to the museum. We'll convince Charlotte to come out with us. They'll get to know each other, blah, blah, then BOOM. Everyone's enlightened, and moving on."

She shook her head. "Terrible, terrible idea."

He scoffed. "Watch and learn, 'Mi. Watch and learn."

Slipping his wallet in his pocket, he headed out the door, leaving Naomi to contemplate life in the next world without her oblivious, socially inept boyfriend.

OOO

"You've reached Theresa Spencer. I'm not available to take your call. Please leave a message after the tone." Answering machine. What a surprise. Not.

_Might as well leave a message. Again._ Silently, Daniel Widmore wondered when it ceased qualifying as pathetic desperation to get her back, and started qualifying as stalking.

At the other end of the line, the beep sounded, granting him permission to speak. He paused momentarily, wondering if he was actually going to do this. If he really had the balls to leave his- what? fifth, sixth, eighty-ninth?- message on her answering machine.

Yes, yes he was.

"Theresa? Theresa, it's Dan-" He heard a click on the other end of the line.

He couldn't help it- he leaped off his piano bench, a feeling of elation and victory rushing over him. For the first time in the week since Theresa had unceremoniously dumped him, she'd actually picked up the phone. Finally, she was done ignoring him! Finally, she'd come to her senses, and realized that she didn't want to date a rock god. Finally, she'd realized that a classical pianist was enough. She was going to beg him to take her back, he could just feel it.

"Daniel?"

"Theresa... um..."

Now, in the moment, words escaped him. What the hell had he wanted to say?

"Daniel this needs to stop. Now. I thought you'd get the hint when I didn't pick up, but clearly you didn't. We're over. Done. I still care for you, but you're not what I want. I need adventure, a little unpredictability. And you're well... you're not boring. We just stagnated. And Liam gives me what I need."

It hurt, hearing those words. "Theresa, I'm sorry, just give me a cha-"

She sighed loudly, interrupting him. "Dan, just stop apologizing. I told you, this isn't your fault. It's mine. And I don't think my being in town is helping you to move on."

"Wh... what do you mean?" he managed to stutter out.

"Dan. Can I be blunt? In the last week, you've called me forty-two times. You really need to let go of us. I'm leaving LA, at least for a little while. Liam asked me to join him on the Driveshaft world tour, and I agreed."

The words hit him hard. Not as hard as he expected them too, but still like a punch to the gut. How was it possible that she moved on from their four year relationship so quickly? Didn't it mean anything?

The phone beeped at him, making him jump in surprise. Glancing down at the screen, he saw his call waiting flashing. Miles. Half grateful and half full of dread, he turned his attention back to the phone, where Theresa was still talking.

"Dan, are you still there?"

"No, I'm here. I hope you're happy with him, Theresa, I really do." He wanted out of this conversation, before the two pieces of his broken heart were further smashed into oblivion. It was done. Over. He just had to grow up and accept it.

"Dan-"

Without a goodbye, he hit the pound key on his phone, switching over to the other line. "Hey Miles."

"Hey there Danny Boy. Tried your apartment, but clearly you're not there. Do not tell me you're at the studio banging out more of that emo crap you've been so fond of lately."

Dan felt his cheeks turn red. Caught in the act. That was exactly what he'd been doing before he gave into the urge to call her. Not that he had to say it aloud. Miles, his unlikely best friend since he was enrolled in his private elementary school, could read his mind.

"Christ, Romeo. Again? Dude you're killing me. Listen. Don't move. I'm coming to get you, and we're going out on the town, alright?" Dan made a move to protest. "No. No arguments. You need to get over that heartless bitch, and I know just the way to do it."

OOO

Something was off.

Maybe she was sleep deprived- she'd been pulling sixteen hour days at the museum lately- but as she wandered through the paleontology exhibit, Charlotte Lewis knew something was amiss. Eight PM, and the museum was entirely still, save for herself and Frank Lapidus, the night guard. Not that she could chat with him if she wanted to. He was stationed at the opposite end of the building, in the tiny room behind the ticket counter, where the security TVs were stored. And knowing good old Frank, at this point, he'd probably had a night cap or two, and was sound asleep.

Thank God Pierre had invested in a good alarm system. Otherwise, she'd be the only defense the museum had against intruders in the eary hours of the morning.

Trailing slowly through the exhibits, the only sound resonating through the halls that of her high heels against the marble tile work, she gazed at the fossil displays. Nothing _seemed _out of the ordinary. But honestly, her mind wasn't completely set on the task at hand.

Wrapping her cardigan around her as the air conditioning system switched on, she moved out of the dinosaur exhibit, into the displays on early man. Gazing at the fossils had her contemplating her next career move and thinking of the life she'd once known. Camping in the Egyptian desert, swimming in the Sumatran rain forest, hiking the Andes mountains- roughing it with the good old boys in search of the latest archaeological find. It was a bloody amazing existence, the one she'd dreamed of as a little girl. Yet she'd given it all up, at least for a time.

As she'd edged toward thirty, she found herself wanting more. A husband, a passle of kids. Not that she wanted to leave behind her career. No, with the right man, in just the right set of circumstances, Charlotte was convinced she could reconcile a life on the move with a family. Adventures were all well and good, but having someone to share the experience with... it would complete the dream.

But meeting men on the road was, to be frank, a failure. The competitive nature of archaeology, trying to beat each other to the newest find, made a relationship almost impossible. So she'd taken a break from active field work, and took a position at the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History, heading up the Asian and Oceania antiquities exhibits. For three years she'd been satisfied with a job she loved, a fantastic boss in Pierre Chang, and a friend in his son Miles. She played the field, dated a variety of men, but none of them quite fulfilled the requirements as the future husband of Charlotte Lewis.

The familiar inkling was filling her again, the desire to hunt for new treasures, to get her name back in the papers and the journals, to contribute to the field again. Yet she hadn't found what she was looking for, and the sinking feeling in her stomach over the last few weeks had made her fell as if, perhaps, the career she loved and the family she wanted couldn't be reconciled.

_It's not bloody fair,_ she fumed over the injustice of it all. _Not bloody fair at-_

_ Bow ties?_

It was true. her eyes had not deceived her. Somehow, the Neanderthals in the glass cases had been equipped with spears, loin clothes, and tasteful red satin bow ties. And there was not a doubt in her mind as to who was the culprit.

"CHANG!"

An almost girlish giggle resounded as her friend stepped out from behind another case. Miles's face was flushed, and he sauntered more than walked over to her. Charlotte instantly knew he had more than a few drinks in him. He was followed by a second man who seemed almost embarrassed to be there with him. Unconventionally handsome with a quirky sense of fashion, he seemed harmless enough.

"Heyyyyyyyyy Red! Knew I'd find you here."

She snorted, though her annoyance quickly gave way to a smirk as she watched Miles sway back and forth, trying to maintain balance. "I'm so glad your stalking me, Miles."

"You make it fairly easy. Apartment. Work. Work. Apartment. Yup, real hard. Have no fear, though. We came by to rescue you."

"Rescue me? Or make my life even more difficult? I have to fix that display tonight before I leave, thanks to you. I should have your father confiscate your keys to this building."

The other man, brunette and silent up until this point, blushed. "We... we could help you fix it."

Miles rolled his eyes. "Aw c'mon Dan. Charlotte knows it was just for fun." He turned back to her. "Dan just went through a rough breakup. Bitch of an ex-girlfriend ran off with the lead singer of Drive Shaft. I'm trying to end the pity party. And seeing as how you're always up to your elbows in work here, and are in desperate need of a social life yourself, I figured we'd bring you along with us."

As each consecutive word left Miles's mouth, Charlotte saw Dan's face blush brighter and brighter red in embarrassment. It was really sweet, in a way. She smiled at him. "I'm sorry to hear about your girlfriend, Dan. Breakups are rough."

"Not that she'd know. Charlotte's been looking for a stable relationship for years now. Pretty much since she came to LA."

She felt her face flame, probably even brighter than the tomato red that was currently gracing Daniel's face. "I'm sorry, did you say you were going out drinking, or that you were already drunk?"

"I'm pretty sure he had a few before we met up tonight," Dan said quickly. "He brought a bottle of tequila to my studio to pregame, and we stopped at happy hour before he suggested we come and find you. Honestly, he might be more sober than drunk right now. I don't think he knows what he's saying."

The laugh escaped her, despite her embarrassment at a total stranger knowing her sad LA dating history. "Miles _is _a shameful lightweight."

"Lies!" Miles shouted, a look of mock astonishment on his fce.

"We should probably call a cab for him. Naomi's going to kill his sorry arse."

"Nah, it's alright," Dan said, waving his hand. "We've already caused enough problems for you tonight. I'll make sure he gets home. If you like, I can come back and help fix the display."

"Awww leave it! It looks good! Very Christmasy. Festive!" Miles protested. He was having trouble walking now.

"I think I'm going to take Miles's Martha Stewart impersonation as our cue to leave." Dan smiled sweetly at her before hauling Miles up on his shoulder. For a lean guy, he was surprisingly strong. Charlotte knew from experience that drunk Miles was all dead weight. "You'll be alright getting him to a cab?"

"Absolutely." He paused briefly, looking at her with faint recognition. "Have we met before, Charlotte?"

His words took her by surprise, but as she studied his face carefully, she had to agree that he did look familiar. "Yes... yes I believe so. Briefly, at the museum benefit. You were playing with-"

"Driveshaft," he completed her sentence, a look of sadness crossing his face. "Backstage, right before we went on. The bassist was passed out on the couch. Who would have thought... ah well, live and learn right? It was nice meeting you again Charlotte."

"You too, Dan," she replied, watching as he carried Miles towards the front door. She moved to the window to make sure Dan was able to get a taxi. Once they were gone, she headed back to the Neanderthals.

Opening the display case, she heard footsteps behind her. "Still here, Char?" Frank asked, arms crossed is mock dismay.

"Where else?" she replied.

"Oooh, bow ties. Nice touche. Very classy. Who knew the Neanderthals were such fashionistas." Laughing loudly, she removed one of the bow ties and tossed it out to Frank.

"Since you like it so much..."

"Don't mind if I do," Frank said, attaching the bow tie around his neck. "Now finish up, and get the hell out of here Charlotte. You don't get out nearly as much as you should."

"I will, don't you worry," she promised sincerely. _Just as soon as I finish these guys. And read that journal article... and finish editing those files..._

Yeah, it was definitely time to get back in the field.

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**Thank you all for your wonderful response to the introduction! Special thanks to all those who reviewed: Dr. Giggles (so glad you like your story!), Stefy Abbott, LittleMissBones, MyLuckyWhistle, Unidentified Pineapples, Elyad, Golden-Black Dragon, and pani zagloba. You're all fabulous! Hope everyone had a very happy holiday! Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 2: December 21

**Disclaimer: Do I own it? Alas, I do not! **

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**Chapter 3**

**December 21****st**

"Urgghhh," Miles groaned. Head pounding and stomach swirling, this hangover was definitely the worst of both his life and unlife. "Unfair, unfair, unfair," he muttered, turning over slowly. He was dead, wasn't a hangover overkill?

"Call it divine retribution, babe," he heard Naomi mock, crawling away from where she had been spooned against him. "If you're going to vomit, kindly do it in the bathroom."

"Love you too, 'Mi. What the hell happened?"

"Well genius, remember when you decided that the best way to introduce Dan and Charlotte was a drunken hookup?" He nodded slowly, trying to judge how much he could move without feeling nauseous. He felt the bed rise as Naomi got up. "Well the only person that got drunk last night was you. Dan dragged your sorry arse back here around midnight."

Sunlight filled the room as Naomi raised the blinds on the double window across from the bed. "_Christ _Naomi, are you trying to friggen blind me?"

"Consider it your punishment for being a complete and utter wanker," she snapped, sitting back down next to him. She slipped her hand within his. "You've got four days, Straume, what are you gonna do?"

She was quieter now; he could hear the worry in her voice. Stretching, he tried to overcome the pounding in his head to think clearly. He hated seeing her like this. Quite honestly, it freaked him out.

"Well, tonight's our regular night out with Charlotte."

"Any way we can get Dan there?" Naomi asked.

"We?"

"Yes, we. Clearly, you're going to need some help with this." Naomi smiled. "Now, how do we get Dan to show up?"

"We don't," he said with a sigh, feeling defeated. He did _not _want to be left here alone without Naomi. Not after they figured out what they never had a chance to realize when they were alive. "Dan's got a-"

Then it his him. "'Mi, I've got it. Tell Charlotte we're not going to the usual place. Vincent's on Fourth. Eight o'clock."

OOO

"You got everything you need, man?" Mike asked, leaning over the bar to shake his hand.

Daniel glanced over his shoulder, checking his arrangement on the stage one last time. Piano in place, stand light in working order to light his sheet music. "Yeah, I should be all set."

"I really appreciate this, Dan. Since our old act backed out on us… and Walt's been raving about you since that concert you gave at his school. If everything works out tonight, I'd definitely like to talk future gigs. If you're interested that is."

Dan smiled. "I appreciate it."

Returning to his piano on the stage, he glanced around the club. It was upscale, with circular mahogany tables decorating the edges of a wooden dance floor, dimly lit by low hanging Tiffany-esque stained glass lights. Like something out of a Studio 54-era movie, Dan could easily imagine the likes of Ingrid Bergman and Clark Gable drinking and dancing late into the night here.

It was the perfect venue to make his first foray into jazz music. Classical would always be his first love, but he couldn't resist the desire to diversify, and the creative process imbued in jazz allowed him that. His first test subjects, a group of middle schoolers that needed an accompanist during their annual play, hadn't run screaming in misery and horror, which he took as a good sign.

That was where he'd met Walt, who had mentioned his father's club was looking for a new act. Two phone calls later, Dan had scored his first gig here at Vincent's.

Sliding into his piano bench, he looked out over the audience. It was a younger crowd, late twenties to early thirties. Most looked like business professionals who had money for a nice night out on the town- not the struggling, starving artists who frequented his gigs. He glanced around, looking for a familiar face. Dan had mentioned the gig to Miles, but knew that he was normally out with other friends tonight; a sort of weekly tradition.

Which was why, when the nightclub door swung open and Naomi and Miles entered, he was surprised. Naomi smiled- well, more smirked, but that was Naomi- and gave a little wave as she was ushered to a table. Miles, meanwhile, approached the bar, shaking Mike's hand before placing his drink order. _Is there anyone he doesn't know_? Dan silently wondered, still holding his minor lifelong grudge against his friend's superior social skills.

Laughing at his ridiculous behavior, he responded to Naomi's greeting with a smile, and launched into his set.

OOO

"Thank you!" Charlotte shouted into the taxi before slamming the door shut, checking to make sure her cardigan hadn't gotten stuck in the door. Served her right for not checking her voice mail earlier. She'd shown up downtown at their regular haunt, the Hyperion Tavern, and waited around almost twenty minutes assuming that Miles had been caught on a 911 call. It hadn't dawned on her to actually check her voice mail, where a message from Naomi had been waiting.

Slipping in the door, she handed her ID to the burly bouncer and scanned the tables for Naomi and Miles. She found them toward the front, an extra beer waiting for her. Their attention was directed to the stage, lit by a single spotlight and several floor lights, illuminating a man on baby grand piano.

He was slouched over the keys, eyes staring off into space, despite the fact that there was sheet music in front of him. A fedora was pushed low on his forehead, keeping his face hidden, though his hair poked out the bottom. His hands moved quickly on the ivory, dancing as he seamlessly performed the disjointed chords that somehow resulted in a cacophonous melody. Jazz wasn't really her favorite genre- she was much more partial to oldies from the sixties and seventies- but thus far, she was impressed.

Reclaiming her ID from the bouncer, she moved quickly across the floor, trying not to disrupt anyone's view of the concert. "Hey! Sorry I'm late," she whispered loudly, sliding into her seat. Miles and Naomi both turned, whispering their hellos in return.

"Why the sudden change?" she asked curiously. Hyperion had been their bar of choice for over a year now.

The song came to an end before they could answer, and scattered applause erupted from those patrons not too busy chatting or enjoying their drinks to hear the music. Miles let out a loud whoop and started fist pumping, drawing attention from those around him.

_Does he always have to be that guy? _Charlotte mused. She rolled her eyes, hissing, "It wasn't that good," more to shut Miles up than anything else. She honestly was quite enjoying the music.

The pianist turned around to look in their direction. Surprise overtook her as she recognized Daniel, Miles's personal escort from the museum the previous night. She felt herself blushing, embarrassed at her comment. Miles stuck his tongue out. "Be nice, Charlotte, we're all friends here."

Her only response was a single finger. Miles got the message.

OOO

The last chord dissipated over the sound of the crowd, and one last round of applause emerged from the crowd. Unsure of what to do, he took a quick bow, waving awkwardly to the crowd. At his table, he saw Miles laughing, giving him two thumbs up and signaling at the empty chair. With a quick smile and a final bow, Daniel jumped off stage and strode to the bar, grabbing the beer that Mike had waiting for him.

"Dude, that was fantastic," Miles congratulated him, slapping him on the back as he took his seat.

Naomi nodded in agreement. "Jazz suits you, Dan. Though you could have tossed in a Christmas song or two. It _is_ the most wonderful time of the year after all," she teased. "You've met Charlotte Lewis, correct? She works with Miles's father at the museum."

The sudden change in topic caught him off guard, and he realized he hadn't noticed the third person sitting at the table. He smiled, trying not to show that he hadn't noticed her. "How are you?"

Charlotte placed her beer back on the table, wiping a stray drop from her lower lip with the side of her hand and pushing her straightened hair behind her ears. In the dim light of the bar, it was a simple, yet shockingly alluring, action. "I'm well," she replied. "You're music is wonderful."

"Thank—"

The sound of glass slamming the table interrupted his thought, causing him to jump. Across the table, he noticed Charlotte had too.

"I need another beer," Miles announced loudly. Naomi was glowering, looking as if she was trying to choose between killing Miles now, or inflicting a slow, torturous death upon him.

"Let me buy you one, darling," she said between clenched teeth. "Would you excuse us?"

There was utter silence, and he gulped at his beer. Without Miles's antics, and despite his triumph over the crowd at the bar, he felt his confidence fleeing. Before Theresa, he'd never been the most self-assured guy around women, and since his unceremonious dumping, he was probably even less so. Glancing over at Charlotte, he saw her eyes darting about, from bar to ceiling to floor, tilting her beer back and forth as the liquid got dangerously close to spilling over.

She felt just as awkward as he did. It was a shocking realization, one he never anticipated coming to, and it gave him the courage to say, "At least we can always count on Miles for entertainment."

_Start small, start familiar. You just have to make conversation until those two come back. It's not like this is a date or anything. This is just another one of Miles's friends. _Sipping his beer, he hoped his mental pep talk would help.

Charlotte smirked. "I'm about ninety-eight percent certain Naomi is just as mental. She just hides it better."

Daniel felt himself laugh loudly, beer shooting out his nose. Wiping the beer off his face, he glanced at Charlotte, expecting to see her walk away in disgust. Instead, she was gaping in shock, cheeks crinkling up as she tried to suppress laughter.

"You so did that on purpose," he accused, tone light to ensure she knew he was joking. With that she broke down into hysterics.

"Bloody hell, I could only wish I did," she shot back. Their laughter subsided, and they were quiet again. "I really did enjoy your music, Dan. Miles had said you were playing tonight, and I knew you were a classical pianist... it was unexpected." She paused. "That came out wrong. I'm sorry. You play beautifully."

Daniel smiled, understanding exactly what she was trying to say, despite her inability to say it. "Thank you. So Miles tells me you're an archeologist. Raid any good tombs lately?"

OOO

"Another round!" Miles demanded, giving Michael a cocky smile. "For little victories."

"Little is an understatement," Naomi muttered, slamming her own empty shot glass down as the whisky burned her throat.

Michael smiled, handing them another round. "I'm cutting you two off after this. You may have them speaking, but they still are living in an oblivious little fairytale."

Miles threw back the drink, rolling his eyes. Knowing both of his friends, had they been super uncomfortable together, they would have joined him and Naomi at the bar. Seeing them still sitting at the table, chatting comfortably though their beers had long since emptied, was reassuring. But just in case, he had a backup plan. When _didn't _he?

"Don't worry, don't worry. I've got it covered. How you feel about a double date tomorrow night, 'Mi?"

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**Hey all! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. I'm just finishing up my Christmas vacation, it's been amazing being back with my family! Thanks to everyone who read the previous chapter, and especially those who reviewed: Unidentified Pineapples, Dr. Giggles, LittleMissBones, Golden-Black Dragon, pani zagloba, Stefy Abbott, and Elyad. I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story! I've gotten a bit behind on personal responses to reviews, but I should be able to get them out for this chapter. I truly do appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think! **

**Also, for those interested, I have two published banners for this story up on my blog. You can check them out on the link on my profile!**

**Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always appreciated! Best- Jac **


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